


Dirty Little Secret

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something dark and twisted has taken control of Stiles Stilinski and Scott will do whatever it takes to buy time for his friends to find a cure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secret

Scott swore quietly and smacked his pen down on his desk, rubbing his eyes wearily. Homework shouldn’t exist at a time like this, the world needed a pause button when the supernatural crashed into the normal and he struggled to keep the two separate. He curled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking and focused on breathing. He wanted to be out there, to do  _something_  to fix this mess instead of staring at a page of calculus that seemed like some kind of unintelligible foreign language. There wasn’t anything he could do except find a way to keep himself busy while Deaton searched for an answer, but that wasn’t good enough. Didn’t everyone understand that the world was falling apart and he needed a minute to pull himself together?

He’d kept it quiet, an ugly festering lie that felt like it was burning through his chest every time he had to smile and pretend everything was normal. Liam didn’t know what the blips meant when he said the words “I’m fine” and Peter never cared. Malia might have suspected but she didn’t question, but Derek watched him was concerned and questioning eyes until he made his excuses and distanced himself. There were tests to take, there were lacrosse finals and college essays. No one would blame him if he took some time to focus on his human responsibilities when everything else seemed so quiet. They had no idea how wrong they were.

He would find an answer, there had to be one. All he needed was more time, giving up was not an option. It never was. The sound of the window sliding open made his stomach twist and Scott’s entire body tensed at how wrong it was that something so familiar could set him so near the edge of panic. “I’m going to start locking the window if you keep doing that. It’s why we have doors.”

"No way, Scotty, you could never keep me out."

Stiles always had the easy confidence of someone who knew they were right. He could trip over his own feet, but he’d still make it sound like it was all part of a grand scheme.

His voice never faltered. He walked through Scott’s room like Stiles had countless times before, but when wiry arms wrapped around the werewolf’s shoulders, draping a bony figure across his back, there was a hidden strength in his muscles. He dragged a hand across Scott’s chest, from the jut of his hip to the point just above his stuttering heart. He sounded like Stiles. He had all his mannerisms down pat whenever he had an audience, and he was very good at knowing when someone was watching. He just did things Stiles never would. Stiles hadn’t been around for days.

"Unless you want me to go? Then I don’t know what I’ll get myself into - or who I’ll find."

The creature wore his best friend’s face like a mask. Sometimes it chose the wrong words. Sometimes that was on purpose. Whenever the young alpha saw how ill-fitting it was, his entire body trembled.

For the first time in his life, Scott wished he could find a way to keep his best friend out. It was sick the way that thing wore Stiles’s skin like a costume, twisting that smile he knew so well into something ugly and cruel. The wolf shrugged out of the boy’s arms, shoving Stiles away with a low warning growl. He didn’t shudder and rub his hands to rid himself of the touch and was proud he’d managed so much.

“We had a deal.” He said, voice dangerous. “You don’t hurt anyone, I’ve done everything you asked. You don’t get to threaten them.” Scott never used his name, he wasn’t sure he could. Even if it sounded like him, moved like him, it was NOT Stiles and he wasn’t going to let this thing have his best friend’s name even if had taken everything else. It was wrong, sick. Scott’s jaw clenched tight and he turned away, trying to ignore the presence even though he was acutely aware of every move the other boy made.

“What do you want?” Scott already knew the answer, but they both pretended that he didn’t. It was easier when he could convince himself he was fighting back.

Strong fingers grabbed Scott by the jaw, hard enough to bruise though they could break bone just as easily. For a second, faster than Scott could blink, Stiles’s eyes were as black and dull as coal. He never stopped smiling because for all of the wolf’s strength, for all that his vessel was nothing more than skin and bones, the world would end before Scott McCall raised a hand to his best friend again.

Scott’s heart skipped a beat as Stiles’s eyes flicked black and he had to look away. It wasn’t his friend looking back at him and he clung to the hope that Stiles was still somewhere buried inside where he could reach him. Whatever it was that was pretending to be Stiles Stilinski was just a parasite, something they could remove and let the captive mind inside escape.

"Our deal only works if you keep up your end of the bargain, dude. Don’t make it sound like it’s hard. I haven’t even started yet." 

Stiles pushed at Scott’s chair, turning it until its backrest thumped against the study table. He leaned forward just so he could watch the alpha inch away, even if he’d already done far worse. He plucked the pen out of Scott’s hand, only to trace the long line of his arms, carelessly stealing the alpha’s warmth.

"You know what I want. You’re going to give it me."

“I know I’m going to stop you.” He said in measured tones, pulling away when the other boy touched him. This time he couldn’t stop the shudder. “I’m going to save him.”

 

With a quick flick of his wrist, the demon broke the tiny bones Scott’s arm.

Bones crunched and the alpha howled in pain, cradling his broken wrist and baring his fangs. Stiles never had strength like that, the poison inside of him corrupting him into something inhuman. Scott panted shallowly as he felt the bones start to knit themselves back together, his healing kicking in to ease the pain away. There was no fighting back, Stiles was in there somewhere and there had to be a way to stop this thing without risking his best friend. “Glad you’re having fun.” He snapped, fangs sinking back into dull human teeth.

Long fingers laced with Scott’s, the gesture a mockery of how gentle it could be. Then Stiles’s hand flicked back, tilting broken bones in the worst possible way, and anything that could have mended shattered. His forehead rested against Scott’s, their noses brushing ever so slightly, almost affectionately.

"Don’t worry, Scotty. It’s no fun if you’re not having fun either."

As he nipped at Scott, parting soft pillowed lips with his own, he rolled the wolf’s hand until Scott was shaking in pain. Stiles’s other hand curled around the back of his best friend’s neck, holding him in place as he kissed him, swallowing down every pained whimper, and black veins spread up his arm. 

"This better? Just the way you like it."

His knee rested between Scott’s thighs, forcing them to spread, and he took his time mapping out the sweet swell of the alpha’s mouth. He dragged his teeth across his lip, as systematically precise as when he destroyed his captive’s wrist.

"He likes it, too. He’s been thinking about taking you apart for years."

Scott couldn’t find breath enough to cry out, grinding bone on bone making him dizzy. Stiles always knew exactly how to make it hurt and coax every last bit of agony from even a simple wound. He didn’t fight as the boy took his mouth but he couldn’t respond, gasping for air as something he’d always wanted so badly was used like a weapon. It wasn’t fair that after wondering and hoping and wishing for years about what it would be like to kiss his best friend that this was the only way he’d ever find out. Sad and silent daydreams of watching Stiles chew his lips in class or the way his razored tongue would dart between them was never supposed to end this way. He gave a quiet moan as the harshest aches were stolen from his nerves and told himself that was the only reason for such a noise.

“I don’t.” The wolf managed to force the words through grit teeth as he jerked his head back. “You’re lying. You’re not him, he would never… _we_  would never.” It wasn’t technically a lie, though he could feel something skip in his pulse. “You have no idea about either of us.”

The alpha was a prize. Pretty dark eyes were blown wide, tears caught on his long lashes. His mouth looked obscene, candy red and fucked wet, and every time the creature dragged his best friend’s fingers across it,  _Stiles_  screamed.

"I know he hates this." The creature mocked, guiding Scott’s injured hand across his chest, just to hear the wolf’s breath hitched and watch his pupils dilate beyond his control. "I know it makes him sick when you touch his body. Every memory he has is one I made for him, but I know he still loves it when your mouth is wrapped around his dick. Sounds like fun, Scotty."

He pulled Scott’s head up like he was trying to tear the hair off his scalp, and sliding down the other boy’s pajamas was laughably easy. “He thinks you’re so stupid, Scott. How could you fuck up so badly? You’re supposed to save everyone, alpha.”

Scott didn’t fight. That was their deal, right? One person who could carry the pain so the thing that looked like Stiles didn’t hurt anyone else. No one knew, he had to keep it secret or they’d be after Stiles and people would start getting hurt. He couldn’t risk that, it was better this way until Deaton was back with something that could help. He could handle this on his own and protect Stiles, but when he looked up into dead, cruel eyes, he wondered how much of his best friend was left…and how much Stiles hated him for failing.

“I’m sorry!” He ground out the words and at least he knew they were genuine. The wolf hissed in pain as he bared his throat before pleading, not to the thing but to the boy trapped somewhere inside of it. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I’ll find you, I swear I will.” There was no way to know if the creature’s taunt was true, but it broke something inside of Scott and he shuddered as the sharp pieces of his heart rattled in his chest with every gasp. If it wasn’t true, it should be. “I-I’’m sorry.”

Careful fingers brushed over Scott’s face, tracing the apples of cheeks, the sharp lines of his jaw. Stiles cradled him close, tender like so many couldn’t believe he was capable of, as he urged the alpha closer to kiss him again and again. He wrapped his arms around Scott’s frame, and pulled him to his feet, bodies pressed tightly together. Trapped in his own mind, Stiles sobbed. He could feel Scott beneath his hands, feel his warmth, the way his chest rose with every ragged breath, and when they kissed, he could taste him. He just couldn’t move, couldn’t stop the creature controlling him, and as his alpha trembled, part of Stiles didn’t want to.

“ _Leave him alone!_ " He yelled, banging on walls wouldn’t stop closing in. Words and thoughts melded together, and Stiles wished he could close his eyes, wished he didn’t have to see the way his best friend surrendered. " _Don’t touch him! Don’t you fucking touch him! Please don’t hurt him I need him please fuck please!_ ”

"Maybe I’ll keep him." The stranger’s voice echoed through Stiles’s skull, and the human raged, banging his fists until his knuckles bled, but outside his mind, only seconds had passed. "Once I’m done. Once I’ve disposed of his pathetic little pack. He’s such a pretty little thing. He’d do anything to keep you alive."

“ _YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE!_ ”

Stiles’s features remained serene throughout, even as he pulled Scott in, kissing him again and again. He rested his forehead against his captive’s, nuzzling into his side playfully.

"You have thirty minutes, Scotty. I want your pain. Don’t keep me waiting. There’s a lot of damage"

Scott was always resourceful when he stole it, after all.

The wolf hated that he _couldn’t_ hate this. Guilt burned in his gut as he slid his one good hand down the side of the other boy’s body to settle around the bone of Stiles’s hip. He still smelled like his best friend, still felt the same even if he could push harder now. He knew he shouldn’t like the way Stiles’s body would bend beneath his touch or the eager way the creature would respond. It wasn’t real, just some twisted and corrupted fantasy that Scott couldn’t seem to pull away from. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy this so much and it was sick to think about. He was supposed to save Stiles, not use him.

When the creature pulled him in to a kiss turning the human’s mouth against him, it was easy for just a moment to pretend it was real. Scott could tell himself as many times as he could that there was no choice and the only way he could keep his friends safe was to stall long enough for them to find a cure, but some part of him was afraid that he lived for the moments where he could almost believe it was Stiles. The wolf chased Stiles’s mouth, finally responding and silently asking for more. It was just a trick, it was a delay tactic. He didn’t really want this. He did NOT.

“Just take what you want.” Scott breathed and ignored the way his voice wavered. “You’re going to take it anyways no matter what I say, just do what you want to and leave. We had a deal that had nothing to do with you talking me to death.”

Stiles moaned shamelessly, and in that moment, it was impossible to tell which one of them was in control. Trapped in his head with too much sensation, Stiles thought about his best friend holding on because he wanted to, not because he had to, how Scott looked when he was happy, when he felt good. Not when he was tricked like this, trapped, hurt. And he knew what the creature planned a millisecond before it spoke.

“ _NO_!”

Stiles’s smile pressed against his best friend’s mouth, insistent and eager like it might have been if he’d had the chance. He ran his hands up and down the werewolf’s body, urging him closer, petting and teasing, until they settled on Scott’s shoulders. Scott let himself be drawn in, lulled by how good Stiles could feel up against his body when he should have kept his guard held high. He was an idiot, he’d be the first one to admit it. With inhuman strength, the creature pushed. Muscle tore, bone shattered and Stiles pushed Scott’s arm right out of its socket, but he didn’t stop kissing him. He let the boy howl for mercy. When he stole his best friend’s pain, he was nothing but generous.

Agony ripped through his body and Scott’s scream was lost in Stiles’s mouth. The rush of pain and the sudden numbing relief was like whiplash and he rested his head against the human’s shoulder with a low moan. His dark skin was flushed with a sheen of sweat and when Stiles pulled away, Scott watched him through eyes already filtering with red. He never meant to tilt his head against Stiles’s fingertips, never meant to nuzzle against his hand like some sort of animal starved for affection.

"Not bad." Stiles pulled away, licking his fingertips like he could still taste his best friend. With a mocking grin, he pet the side of his wolf’s head. "On your bed, Scotty. Hands up, legs spread. I wanna see you."

Defiance sparked in the wolf and he growled as if to remind the creature that his obedience came at his decision and that he was still a dangerous enemy. Scott swayed on his feet before stumbling to the bed, stretching back with a muffled noise of pain. It was humiliating to be put on display like this and he kept his gaze locked on his ceiling as he spread his legs. He hooked one hand around the headboard, but his ruined shoulder made it impossible to move his right arm that lay limp at his side. He could do this, it was just for a little while longer. All Scott had to do was survive and swallow his shame.

Stiles hadn’t realized he’d fallen silent until the creature’s voice echoed through his head. 

“ _You like him like this.”_

The human’s nerves flared with tension. It should have been disgust flitting through his veins, but his hands spread across Scott’s chest, carefully peeling back warm clothing. The wolf’s shoulder was unnaturally bent, bone threatening to tear through skin, but he was careful. He treated Scott like he was made of fine glass, stealing away his pain. Stiles held his breath without realizing it. When his body bent forward, dropping tender kisses across Scott’s collarbones, he felt it. He slipped off Scott’s pajamas, dragging blunt nails down his thighs. Stiles swallowed audibly. His best friend looked like a work of art, like someone had taken a slab of marble and carved away everything that should have been pizza blobby. Weren’t asthmatics supposed to be scrawny and wheezy? Scott wasn’t. Scott was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“ _You like it when we use him_.”

His hand slipped between Scott’s legs, stroking him steadily, making him moan. He squeezed his balls, working his way lower, pressing just so against his perineum. His other hand crushed Scott’s broken shoulder, stealing pain straight out of it. “You make him sick, Scotty. Make him hate himself. How long have you wanted to fuck your best friend?”

Scott didn’t know how to guard against the gentle touches, they were more devastating than the pain could ever be. He was ashamed as his body responded against his will, cock hardening in Stiles’s grip and body arching slightly as it demanded more. Even if he couldn’t admit how wanton and needy he was, he was betrayed by himself. It was harder to pretend that he didn’t choose this when the thing wearing his best friend’s face made it feel so good. There wasn’t a way to escape the guilt as he moaned, hating himself for wanting this so badly. He could have fought back and overpowered Stiles, he could have gone to his friends and found some way to convince them not to attack. He could have done something, but the demon knew the truth.

The boy turned his face away, unable to answer which was answer enough. He wasn’t saving anyone when he writhed for Stiles, for not-Stiles, for as close to Stiles as he could ever get. Scott’s best friend hated him for this and the excuses about doing it to save Stiles started to sound so hollow. Pain blurred with pleasure, the creature stealing just enough to make the two sharpen each other until Scott couldn’t tell them apart. His body was taut and oversensitive and the wolf wasn’t sure if he wanted to beg for it all to end or for the creature to never stop.

“I don’t.” He finally said, a lie but at least he had to deny it out loud to himself. “I don’t want this.”

The demon heard the lie Stiles couldn’t, but that didn’t matter when the boy sobbed, weak fists banging against the prison of his own mind. Scott was breathless and sweet, parted lips impossibly pink as he fought for a control that the creature only let him keep. He worked his fingers lower, stopping only to slick them with lube and opening his alpha up like the best present.

“ _Stop please stop. Don’t hurt him I’ll fucking kill you please don’t hurt him.”_

There weren’t many people in the world that could make Stiles beg, but his best friend was shaking beneath him, and when they kissed, Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about how good his mouth felt. “ _Please stop. He can’t please leave him alone Scott I’m sorry I’m sorry._ " 

He moaned against his alpha’s mouth, sucking on his tongue until the boy trembled with want, dark doe eyes rolling in his head like Scott couldn’t take how good it felt. He had the sweetest pain, laced with guilt and failure, barely slashed with fear. He was so tight, body clenching around Stiles as he pushed in, hard cock shoving through his hot rim of muscle, and Stiles screamed. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good, but it did, so fucking good, and Scott was better than any dream.

“I’m sorry.”

Scott fisted his hand into Stiles’s hair, crushing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He couldn’t resist when his best friend tore him apart. No one on earth knew him better and it wasn’t hard to use all that knowledge against him. The wolf snarled into the creature’s mouth as Stiles’s thick cock thrust into him, head dropping back to the pillow. He felt like he was on fire, overheated and completely flushed, sweat already prickling around his forehead.

He wrapped his legs around the other boy’s waist, rolling his hips up to meet him. Words didn’t mean anything when it was so clear he wanted this. He needed more, body shaking with want. It was too tight and Stiles filled him perfectly with a vicious rhythm, it wasn’t fucking fair that they could never… His own cock slapped against his stomach, drooling precum into the dark hair of his treasure trail. He still couldn’t use his right arm and scrabbled for a grip with his one good hand, digging his claws into the other boy’s hip to urge him on.

“Please.” He gasped into Stiles’s mouth, begging him. “Make it hurt.” The pain was better, at least then he could keep up the lie. “I can take it, I want it to hurt!”

Scott was a feast. Pain came off of him in waves. Black veins criss-crossed up Stiles’s arm, so good, so sweet and thick like fresh honey. It filled his nose, his mouth, washed over his skin, and threatened to drown him under it. Scott’s voice hitched as he spoke, words slurred and dizzy, and the demon loved it when his pet pleaded, writhing and aching for more, but Stiles couldn’t tell who was dragging down whom any long.

He vibrated in skin that was no longer his, sobbing as pleasure slammed into him from every side. He didn’t want it, but he loved it. His best friend was falling apart, but he only wanted more. Blunt human teeth dug into tanned skin, and blood flooded into his mouth. Each vicious thrust dragged Scott off the mattress, bending him nearly in half like Stiles wanted to break him, like he wanted to claim every inch of him, and Stiles was sorry about many things but not that. He could never be sorry for wanting that.

Pain couldn’t take away the pleasure. If anything, it made it worse, forcing Scott to the razor’s edge between them until he keened. The creature stole just enough to keep him trapped without release, not enough of either to satisfy his needs. Stiles punched the air from his lungs with each brutal thrust until the wolf was screaming for more. The numbness was a curse, there was no way to hide from his guilt when his eyes rolled back in his head and he would do anything for more. This wasn’t for Stiles or for the pack,that tiny ugly voice whispered in the back of his head. This was for him and he was sick for wanting it.

"He hates you," The demon snarled against the underside of Scott’s jaw. He kissed his way across his cheeks, catching tears on his tongue, mockingly clement as he chased his pleasure. He used the alpha for everything he had, ramming into him until he couldn’t find the strength to scream. Scott wrapped a clawed hand around his aching cock, stroking himself roughly as he chased that ledge. Anything to make it stop. Tears streaked down the sides of his face and each breath came in a choked sob. “God, yes. Stiles!” He never meant for his friend’s name to escape, but it was so easy to slip and think the cruel hands and brutal pleasure was from a beautiful human boy and not the parasite that infected him. It would have been like this, rough and demanding though probably not as wickedly skilled. Stiles could be gentle, but he wouldn’t have been. It would have been so good. Stiles came deep inside his mate, marking him from the inside out. The boy always thought Scott looked good, but he could never imagine how perfect he looked when he was completely wrecked.

Stiles filling him with cum, slick wetness dripping down his thighs was more than Scott could handle and every muscle in his body tensed painfully tight. He came hard, painting thick white stripes across the dark skin of his chest. It was okay that Stiles hated him, he hated himself too.

Scott wasn’t fair. He was wonderful and brave, ruthless when he needed to be and more stubborn than a pack of Jacksons. He was everything Stiles thought he wasn’t allowed to have, and if this was the only way he got to hold him, if this was all he could have - “ _I’m sorry Scott, I’m so sorry_.” Tired arms wrapped around the alpha’s flank, slowly pulling him closer. Cum dribbled down his thighs, smeared across his belly, but every gesture was tender. Stiles could almost convince himself he was the one in command. He kissed Scott’s brow, tasting sweat on warm skin, and he couldn’t bite back a whimper. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever been so sorry about anything.

"My precious alpha," the creature crooned, combing Stiles’s fingers through unkempt hair. He played with Scott, made dark strands stand on end. He kept Stiles’ breathing slow and even, calm after such sweet surrender. Everything felt so warm, and the sheets beneath them were wonderfully soft. The creature had torn apart Scott’s house, hit him where he should have been safest, in a room that was always welcome to his best friend.

Stiles pretended it was just them, that he could hold Scott like this, like he had permission to kiss him.

 “Shhhh.” This was almost real, it could have been. Those amber brown eyes softened and they looked so much like Stiles that Scott could let himself believe. He’d always wanted his friend to look at him like this someday, like he was someone Stiles could love. He stilled beneath the other boy’s hands, nuzzling delicately against his skin. The creature called Scott “his” and for a moment, that didn’t sound so bad.

Scott traced his fingers down the side of Stiles’s face like he was trying to memorize every inch of him even though he knew the other boy so well. “It’s okay.” He slurred, catching the tears and wiping them away. Whatever had taken his best friend was a monster, but reassuring Stiles was ingrained in every part of Scott and he couldn’t keep himself from reaching out to comfort him. “We’re gonna be okay.” The wolf promised, hope faint, but not gone. Even if Stiles hated him by the end of this, he was going to make sure that his friend made it out alive. That was the only thing that mattered. He drew the boy down and kissed him, gentle and loving like he’d always wanted it to be. _I love you._ It wasn’t fair to say the words now, but they hovered unspoken in the barest spaces between their lips.

"You’ve blinded your pack, but it’s okay. You won’t be around to see them burn."

Stiles’s entire world tilted sideways. He knew its plans an instant before the demon acted, but suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room to breathe. It was a small thing, a thin silver cylinder that no one noticed in Stiles’s many pockets, hidden for days and tucked against a packet of mountain ash. It uncurled into a knife. 

"I know about your witch doctor."

The demon sliced through Scott’s throat.

It must have been the distraction that made him slow, the search for something human in Stiles that caused Scott to miss the monster right in front of his face. His eyes widened in shock, mouth open as he tried to make any sound that wasn’t the wet burble of blood. His hands grasped at the wound that was almost painless, the knife so sharp that it wasn’t until the blood pooled thick and red in his sheets that it started to sting.

“ _NO!”_

 

Stiles shrieked so loudly, his head started to spin. He knew what the demon wanted to do. He knew how it would reach for the mountain ash to press into Scott’s wound. He knew about blood magic now, about how powerful it was and how much potential a True Alpha’s offering could be. And now he knew what his best friend looked like when he was vulnerable and soft, after someone had used him and hurt him, and Stiles couldn’t stop screaming. 

It was cold, so terrifyingly cold. It cut through his skin like a thousand needles, and the ground beneath his feet splintered and cracked. The air was thick with the stench of metallic copper, and there was a ringing in his ear that Stiles didn’t know he was responsible for. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t lose Scott! 

Suddenly Stiles fingers were closed around blood-slicked skin, trying to push against a gaping wound. Scott’s pulse was a frantic little thing, running at double time beneath his hands, growing more and more faint with every passing beat.

"Scott - Scott please, Scott you’ve got to ohfuckplease, Scott you gotta fucking heal!" Time bled together, and all that mattered was making this stop, was keeping his best friend a little longer. Stiles thought about when they were seven years old, and Scott’s inhaler had run out. His lips had gone terrifyingly pale, his eyes started to bulge. He thought about doors that wouldn’t budge and the bitter scent of gasoline. But Stiles couldn’t think about losing his best friend.

The wolf couldn’t breathe, choking on blood that spilled across his bed and flooded into his lungs. He couldn’t speak, mouth working uselessly to beg, to curse, he wasn’t even sure. Everything seemed to slow down and it barely even hurt anymore. Would it be so bad just to let go? He was so tired of fighting and it would be so easy to just close his eyes and let himself drift off. It wouldn’t hurt anymore and he wouldn’t have to face that look of hate and disgust he feared he’d find on Stiles’s face once his friend knew his secret. His friends were strong, they’d be okay without him. He could finally have a chance to rest without the weight of the world crushing in around him.

Some stubborn part of himself forced his eyes to focus on the panicked boy above him, brows drawing together in confusion. There wasn’t anything cruel about the way Stiles was begging him to heal and the hands around his neck were trying to hold his life inside instead of tearing it out. “Stiles?” Scott mouthed the word, soundless and broken. Oh please don’t cry. He cradled the side of the boy’s face in one bloody hand, wishing he had the voice to promise that they were going to get through this somehow.

They were going to get through this.

The thought hit like a truck, Stiles needed him. He’d agreed to carry this pain for his best friend and no matter what they had to go through, he would see this through to the end. He wasn’t going to die until he was sure Stiles was finally safe again, anything less would be unthinkable. Gaping wounds slowly started to knit themselves closed, his body fighting the growing lethargy.

Stiles had to save them both. It was his move. He had to dispose of the mountain ash. He had to get rid of the knife. He had the make sure that whatever was tearing his head apart wouldn’t come back. He had to make sure it never got the chance to hurt Scott again.

"It’s okay, Scotty, you’ll be okay." Stiles blubbered. He wasn’t sure he believed the words, but he wished he could. They were running out of time. He wasn’t sure how long he had until the creature regained control. All Stiles knew was that this had to end here. He couldn’t let it have Scott again. There was just so much blood. He pulled his best friend closer, until there was no where else for them to turn. It had always been him and Scott. When they had no one else to depend on, no one else they could trust, they had each other. They had to fight for each other.

"Don’t let him hurt you again," he pleaded. "If he comes back - don’t, you can’t get hurt. I need you. I can’t lose you, Scott. I’m so sorry."

They were running out of time. Stiles was sure of it. The ringing in his head kept getting louder and louder, until Stiles was sure his head was going to explode. One moment bled into the next, and the last thing he remembered was wishing he could hold Scott’s hand. 

 _Hold on. You can’t let him go, you promised him when he was five years old. You promised him when his mom died, you promised when Lydia never noticed him, you promised when the moon turned you into a monster and he couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares. You promised._ Scott dug his nails in deep, fighting back with a strength he didn’t know he still had.

The wolf forced his body to heal, eyes glowing red with the effort of using his alpha abilities.  Stiles had fought through the creature controlling him, Scott wasn’t going to let it be in vain. Stiles needed him, his best friend didn’t hate him even after how completely he’d screwed everything up. The blood slowed and the gash mended leaving behind an angry red scar slashed across his throat that would fade over time.

Scott wrapped trembling, blood slick arms around the other boy, pulling Stiles close. His body felt weak and cold from blood loss, pale despite his dark skin. The bed was a mess and the sheets soaked through, but he was too exhausted to move. Healing the wound had taken what little power he had left and as his eyes faded back to brown, the room spun. Please let it be enough to help Stiles. Scott’s voice was raspy and raw, but he forced the whispered words passed his lips. “I’m here, Stiles. I’ve got you.”

And Stiles dreamed about that promise. Melissa screamed when she found them.

Stiles hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he woke up. The McCalls’ guest room never looked so foreboding. His mouth felt like something had crawled into it to die. Someone had replaced his brain with a wad of cotton, and everything felt so dull and slow. It was still cold. Really, really fucking cold. He still felt better than he had in weeks. 

Except Scott was gone.

With a jolt, he surged forward, trying to get to his feet only for thick restraints to dig into his limbs. Stiles brayed, confused and hurt as weak human limbs pawed at his binds. There was an IV lodged in his arm, feeding him a fresh pint of blood, but not even big, sharp needles mattered. “Scott? Scott where’s… Scott? Scott!”

Scott felt the uptick in Stiles’s heartbeat from down the hall. His bed had been stripped and cleaned with Derek’s help after a hysterical call from Melissa and the boy tucked into his mother’s bed to sleep. His wounds had closed, but there was still so much damage to heal and bloodloss made him weak. The other wolf reassured Melissa that all Scott needed was rest and his abilities would do the rest. Stiles had been another matter.

The alpha staggered to his feet as his friend called out to him, instinctively trying to get to Stiles. He felt cold, body still exhausted as it knit itself whole and the bones of his shoulder still ground together painfully. Derek moved to stop him, but he pushed passed the wolf. “Let me go! Is he okay?”

“Scott, stop, you need to rest.”

“Get out of my way!” The boy didn’t listen, stumbling down the hall and bursting into the room. He beelined straight to the bed and wrapped his arms around Stiles, trying to calm him down. He didn’t hesitate even if it turned out to be a trick, Stiles needed him and he had to be there. “I’m right here, it’s okay. Relax, buddy, just relax.”

Stiles wailed like a dying cat, turning all too easily into his best friend. He couldn’t move. Everything was too heavy, but Scott felt so good. Memories crashed in on him all at once, things that were too clear, too vibrant to be dreams, and Stiles knew how easy it would be to turn his head up and kiss his best friend. He sobbed, trying to clutch at the alpha. “Scott - Scott! You’re here you’reokayohfuck.”

Stiles had no way of knowing that Dr. Deaton had appeared after spending the better part of an hour fending off a blood curse. He wouldn’t remember being injected with a live beetle, juiced up on magic and everything else that complicated the world. He’d have a nifty scar, but he wouldn’t remember the insect being cut out or how the emissary crushed it beneath his shoe with a smile that was too grim. 

He should have been sorry. Sorrier. But for the first time in too long, it felt like he was the only one in his head, and Scott didn’t hate him. Scott couldn’t hate him if he was still here. Right?

"Is it gone?"

“I-I don’t know.” Scott looked back over his shoulder as Derek gave him a small nod. The other wolf knew? Of course he must know if he was here, he could only imagine what had happened when they were found. The last thing he remembered was so much blood. The wolf stroked his hands through the boy’s hair, pressing his nose against Stiles’s head and breathing in his scent like it could settle the terror stabbing deep through his chest.

“Do you feel like you? Are you okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, crawling into the bed next to his best friend and wrapping his body around as much of Stiles as he could reach. “Shhhh, you’re hurt. You need time to heal.” He didn’t care about his own aching limbs or the way he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, his friend was real and back where he belonged. Everything else took a back seat.

Scott buried his face against the human’s chest. “I’m sorry I let you down. I should have tried harder, I failed. I’m supposed to keep you safe, I’m sorry.” He tripped over the words, voice still so hoarse and rough. “Please don’t hate me.”

Scott was a familiar weight on top of him, and for a moment, Stiles couldn’t breathe. His heart caught in his throat, bound arms tugging uselessly at the rope around his wrists, but he could still get far enough to grab at his best friend’s shirt. A thousand images flooded his mind. His brave, selfless,  _vicious_  alpha, on his knees, soft mouth stretched around his shaft, choking so sweetly. On all fours, spine arched, thick cock hanging low, sweat pooled on his lower back. Scott’s face flushed with anger and want, tears spilling down his cheeks. A sick, twisted part of Stiles refused to regret that. His best friend had begged him to stop, and part of him still loved every second of it.

"You asswipe," he rasped, voice wet with everything he didn’t know how to say.  _I shouldn’t have. I want you. No one should ever hurt you. I love you so much_.

"Don’t you ever fucking - you’re not allowed to get hurt. Not for anyone. You don’t get hurt!"

He thought about Scott walking through a forest of knives for the chance to save them all. When he was taking care of everyone else, Stiles was supposed to be the one who saved _him_. The creature never hurt Stiles. The human still wasn’t sure if that was mercy or not.

"It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault. I could never never hate you. You’re my best friend."

Scott gave a quiet moan, tightening his arms around his best friend. Of course he’d say that, he didn’t know the real truth. That thing inside of him could tell, it taunted him with what he wanted and twisted desire into something cruel and terrible. If he ever admitted that truth, Stiles would never look at him the same way again. Could he even keep something like that secret? It would be clear to anyone else, they could hear the way his pulse would stutter and the arousal would filter into his scent. He couldn’t hide it now.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Stiles.” The wolf said, whispering to spare his raw throat. “I could take it, I just had to keep it busy until Deaton could help. It’s okay.” It was not okay, he wasn’t sure it would ever be okay again but he could pretend. He was getting really good at lying to himself. Scott forced a smile, trembling hands unbuckling the restraints that held his friend strapped to the bed. “Don’t move, dude. You’ve gotta stay here and rest for a while. You’ve been through a lot and…and…”

His voice caught and Scott swallowed hard, trying not to break. After everything, he wasn’t going to cry now. “I’m gonna take care of you. God, I’m so sorry.” His resolve shattered and the boy cried, shoulders shuddering with every sob.

Something had dug into Stiles’s chest. It broke through his ribs and carved out his heart. His Scott, his sweet, stubborn best friend whose biggest crime was putting too much ketchup on everything and caring too much about everyone else. And listening to Stiles. Always listening to Stiles.

There was no space left between, but Stiles tried to pull him closer, pressing him into the mattress. The memory of blood-stained fingers slipping across skin haunted him. He couldn’t stop himself from skimming his hand across his best friend’s throat, and Stiles couldn’t tell if he imagined the jagged edges of badly healed scars or if Scott would see them every time he looked in the mirror. Scott did everything to save him. Even now he was trying to make Stiles feel better, and Stiles couldn’t hold him tight enough.

"I don’t hate you." He confessed, his pulse hammering in his ears. The demon had been a master manipulator. All it wanted to do was hurt them both, and it used the person Stiles trusted most in the entire world to do it. The door creaked open, and the human snarled, pressing his wolf against him, teeth pulled back in a vicious growl as Derek looked on with concern. Stiles was going to fix this. Stiles had to.

He reached out for Scott with shaky hands, wiping tears away on his thumb. He thought about how Scott could shiver when he was kissed just right, how soft his smile could be when they were finished and he was tired, when he thought someone could still take care of him.

"It lied. Everything it said… You did everything you could. You’re the only reason I fought so hard. I don’t know how you’re letting me touch you, but I won’t hurt you again, Scott. I promise. I promise."

Stiles didn’t know if he could keep that, but he’d do everything in his power to stop it from happening again.

Scott wished he could believe that, but too much of what the demon said had been true. It knew exactly how he felt about his best friend, that wasn’t a lie. If it had known that terrible secret, how could the rest of it be a lie too? Scott had  _wanted_  this, some part of him. Of course he would have done anything to save Stiles, but had he been moving slow just so he could prolong the sweetest torture? Would that ugly part of himself actually miss being pressed down into the mattress, screaming for more?

“You should hate me.” The wolf whispered, unable to meet Stiles’s eyes. He had been lying for so long that he wasn’t sure he could ever stop, but it was over. It had to end. Something had to cut the guilty, rotten core out of him. Even if it meant that Stiles would never be able to care about him again, he couldn’t pretend that what happened hadn’t left its mark. The demon had damaged them both, but he was responsible. He’d given the thing a way in and a vulnerability to exploit and when it had found his open wounds, it dug in deep. Its truth was more powerful than any of the lies Scott had created to protect himself.

Stiles wanted this, more than he’d ever known, more than he could ever admit to himself. He could press Scott into warm sheets, hold him close. He’d take away his pain. This time there would be no fine print, no snake waiting to strike. They’d been doing so since they were children, bolstering each other when no one else would. With Wonder Woman bandages and jello pudding, wrapped in heavy blankets and covered in snotty tissues, or hiding in too small broom closets with extra inhalers, it had always been him and Scott. If one was hurting, the other wouldn’t let it last, even if it meant giving up the last dinosaur nugget. Scott was shaking, so faintly Stiles wasn’t sure he’d even noticed. But the human would tear the world apart if it meant keeping his best friend safe. If he had been less selfish before, maybe Scott wouldn’t be this hurt now.

“You should hate me.” Scott murmured again, curling his fingers around the back of Stiles’s neck. “Not everything was a lie. I could have fought harder. I could have told everyone. You, it…sometimes I tried so hard to pretend it was you. It wouldn’t have been so bad then, there were parts that weren’t…” Scott shook his head, unsure of how to explain. “It knew things about me, Stiles. It knew exactly what I wanted.” Even if Stiles did hate him, Scott was never going to leave his side. He couldn’t, he’d promised too much of himself to this boy who kept him anchored to his humanity. There was no version of his life without Stiles next to him. “You should sleep. I think we both need it.”

And then he surprised Stiles.  They’d known each other since before Stiles could tie his shoelaces, knew each other like the back of their hands, but best friend always managed to surprise him.

"You mean - me?"

The words came out impossibly hushed, almost too quiet for a wolf to hear. Was it about the demon not being around, or was it about being himself, being Stiles? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t need to. Someone had finally taught his alpha how to be selfish. Stiles knew his best friend well enough to not need an answer to his question either, but here, he just wanted to hear the words.

Carefully, so so carefully, he cupped his best friend’s cheek, tilting his face up to meet his. Scott wouldn’t look at him, but that was almost a good thing. This was what a panic attack felt like but a thousand times better. It wasn’t a kiss, not really. Their mouths barely brushed, closed mouthed and shy, but Stiles’ heart pounded like he’d ran 5 miles and he couldn’t remember how to breathe.

"S-stop telling me to go to sleep. I’m not gonna if you don’t, too."

And Stiles wasn’t sure if he was allowed to smile.

Scott let out a breath it felt like he’d been holding forever. Stiles’s hands were softer than he thought was possible. They could write such beautiful agonies into his body, but they could hold together the pieces when no one else could see how broken he was inside. Stiles knew, they always knew somehow. They’d spent too much time together to be able to hide anything, especially the pain they didn’t admit to anyone else. His best friend could be cruel and sharp, he was brutal in ways that made Scott’s jaw drop and flush with uncomfortable desire. But it was sweet now and the wolf relaxed beneath the other boy’s weight.

It suddenly felt like Scott didn’t know Stiles at all, navigating blind. He had kissed that mouth before, the same lips had dragged down his skin and forced pleasure and pain until Scott couldn’t separate the two. He’d done the same, intimately familiar with every inch of the human’s body that he shouldn’t have been allowed to touch. Somehow, this kiss felt more vulnerable than any of that, everything stripped bare and exposed. All the ugly truth and that tiny shred of hope that Scott had clung so stubbornly to when anyone else would have given up.

The alpha laughed, more of a huff of air that escaped past his lips and nuzzled carefully against Stiles’s cheek. “I mean you. I always meant you.” Scott brushed the hair from the other boy’s forehead, shy in a way he’d never been before. This was new territory and he was hesitant to even admit it could be real, let alone explore it. “Fine, then don’t sleep you asshole. But don’t complain to me if you pop a kidney or whatever.” His hands continued to wander, stroking through short brown hair and smoothing it down. “I’m gonna take care of you from now on. No one’s going to hurt you again, not even you being a stubborn jerk.”

Stiles didn’t know how Scott could touch him after everything he’d been through, after all that the demon had done to him. He knew more than anyone else why fighting back in the face of sweet temptation could be so difficult. Scott offered the truth freely, but Stiles still held that card close to his chest. It didn’t matter that his best friend probably already knew. The parasite, the demon -  _whatever,_ it had offered him the sweetest prison, gave him everything he’d only admitted to wanting in the privacy of his own mind. Scott had never hurt him, and now Stiles was scared. He’d never been scared like this.

His fingers barely grazed the inside of Scott’s throat, over a still healing scar. He traced down his wolf’s shoulder, over bone and flesh that had been torn apart. The demon had taken so much, and Stiles wasn’t sure where he was allowed to put his hands. He wanted to make Scott feel good.

The human couldn’t stop the breathy little sigh that escaped him, turning into his alpha’s caress. They were so close. Their foreheads bumped, and Stiles was painfully aware of how his hand rested on Scott’s hip. "I loved kissing you. Love? I couldn’t believe it was so good, but…" It got bad quickly, with Scott spread across his sheets, biting down on his pillow to fight down every sound. "I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. Not even my jerkiness… You’re so important Scott. You should let me take care of you."

Scott smiled like he hadn’t in weeks, sweet and genuine. Hope had sustained him for so long, he wasn’t sure what to do when the impossible was actually something he could touch. Stiles didn’t hate him, nothing else could hurt him. He shivered as the other boy traced over newly healed flesh, the ache barely lingering. Being close like this was so good, he loved the way he could feel Stiles’s warmth radiating from his body and the hesitant feel of his fingertips. They were always the best when they were together, knees knocking and a single breath shared between them. The demon could never have this no matter how much it tried to ruin everything they meant to each other.

“You did?” His smile grew brighter, fragile around the edges like he wasn’t sure he could believe what Stiles was saying. “You don’t hate me for wanting it? F-for wanting it with you? It wasn’t that thing, I was so sure you wouldn’t be able to forgive me.” The wolf gently pulled his friend closer, crossing those last few inches of space between them to brush his lips across Stiles’s. They parted just slightly, impossibly careful before he reluctantly pulling back before he took too much.  “If you liked it, then maybe it’s okay if you wanted to kiss me again sometime. If you wanted to, it would be okay with me.

Scott was the most beautiful boy Stiles had ever seen. He was a terrible shithead that had the worst ideas. Somewhere along the line, he’d stolen an angel’s smile and knew how to use it with maximum trouble-avoiding efficiency. Stiles liked to pretend he was immune, but when Scott smiled like that, his guts turned into jello and his brain into mush. Scott let him hold him and he was going to abuse that right forever. "Scott, you’re my best friend in the whole world. I’m never gonna hate you. Never." That was a promise Stiles wasn’t afraid to keep. A life where he wasn’t Scott’s best friend just didn’t make sense. Nothing was ever going to change that.

Even though the demon had used Stiles’s mouth to lie, Scott couldn’t help but believe him. They trusted each other and even now, he would walk through a gauntlet of swords if Stiles asked him to. “It’s okay if you hurt me.” He said gently, uncomfortable and a little embarrassed to admit it. “It’s okay if _you_  do it. Not like that thing did, but I trust you, Stiles. I know you won’t be like that.”

Stiles cupped Scott’s face in his hand, stroking along the curve of his smile with tender care. Their noses bumped. Stiles wanted to steal his breath away. Scott was important. He was so important, Stiles wished he’d get that through his dumb skull one day. "Don’t let me hurt you," he pleaded. He thought about what Scott had asked for, in those last few moments before the knife was drawn. There were so many memories Stiles didn’t want to face, but he knew that he wouldn’t let Scott fall that far ever again. "I just want you to be happy."

When he kissed Scott for the first time, when it was real and sweet and perfect, Stiles saw stars.

Scott melted under the kiss, his bones molten and he felt like there was so much energy thrumming through his body that he was going to burst apart. Exhilaration chased away exhaustion and all the worries of the past weeks faded into the background. There was no fear, no pain. There wasn’t the twist of guilt in the kiss that the demon had loved so much. It wasn’t something wearing Stiles’s face, it was his best friend making a choice to touch him like this because he wanted to without coercion or force. He didn’t want to pull away even to breathe, fingers tracing around the shell of Stiles’s ears.

“I’m happy.” The wolf promised, pressing the words into his best friend’s mouth. “It’s you again, I have my best friend back and you’re okay. Of course I’m happy. I was so scared that something was going to happen and I might actually lose you this time. I won’t ever let that happen again.”

Something twisted unhappily in the pit of Stiles’s stomach, a bitter sort of anxiety that he wanted to beat back with a stick.  _No one was allowed to hurt Scott, no exceptions_  - that should have been what he said. Except the permission to do so left his head spinning in the best sort of way. He thought about Scott arching off the bed, begging him for more. ‘ _Make it hurt… I want it to hurt.’_ He thought about Scott saying his name, breathless and pleading. Desperate for more.

Scott had thought about him. It wasn’t all just the demon’s influence. Scott wanted him. Scott was already his.

"Scott. I’m the only one who’s allowed to. Okay? Just me. No one else can… No one else gets to hurt you. No matter what. Okay, buddy?" Stiles insisted, even if he knew there wasn’t any point. Scott was the most stubborn buttwipe he’d ever known, and that made him perfect.

So Stiles did what he could, and he kissed him, kissed him again and again until his mouth was tingly, and Scott’s smile was all he could taste. He wrapped his arms tight around his best friend’s frame, not caring where bony elbows went as long as Scott could fall apart beside him. “You’re mine, Scott. You can’t get rid of me that easy. You’re  _mine.”_

He kissed him until Scott couldn’t take it, keening low and tired but still so eager. And behind closed lids, Stiles’s eyes flashed black.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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